In vain the thronging enemy by force

Would clear the ramparts, and repel their course;

They break through all, for WILLIAM leads the way,
Where fires rage moft, and loudeft engines play.
Namure's late terrors and deftruction show,

What WILLIAM, warm'd with just revenge, can do:
Where once a thoufand turrets rais'd on high
Their gilded fpires, and glitter'd in the sky,
An undistinguish'd heap of duft is found,
And all the pile lies fmoking on the ground.
His toils for no ignoble ends defign'd,
Promote the common welfare of mankind;
No wild ambition moves, but Europe's fears,
The cries of orphans, and the widow's tears:
Oppreft religion gives the first alarms,
And injur'd juftice fets him in his arms;
His conquefts freedom to the world afford,

And nations blefs the labours of his fword.

Thus when the forming Muse wou'd copy forth A perfect pattern of heroic worth,

She fets a man triumphant in the field,

O'er giants cloven down, and monsters kill'd,
Reeking in blood, and fmeer'd with duft and sweat,
Whilft angry gods confpire to make him great.

Thy navy rides on feas before unpreft,

And ftrikes a terror through the haughty Eaft;

Algiers

Algiers and Tunis from their fultry shore
With horror hear the British engines roar,

Fain from the neighb'ring dangers wou'd they run,
And with themselves ftill nearer to the fun.
The Gallic fhips are in their ports confin'd,,
Deny'd the common use of sea and wind,
Nor dare again the British strength engage; ;
Still they remember that deftructive rage
Which lately made their trembling hoft retire,
Stunn'd with the noife, and wrapt in smoke and fire;
The waves with wide unnumber'd wrecks were strow'd,
And planks, and arms, and men, promifcuous flow'd.

Spain's numerous fleet that perifh'd on our coaft,
Cou'd scarce a longer line of battle boast,
The winds cou'd hardly drive 'em to their fate,
And all the ocean labour'd with the weight.

Where-e'er the waves in restless errors roll,
The fea lies open now to either pole:
Now may we fafely use the Northern gales,
And in the Polar Circle spread our fails :
Or deep in Southern climes, fecure from wars,
New lands explore, and fail by other stars:
Fetch uncontroll'd each labour of the fun,
And make the product of the world our own.
At length, proud Prince, ambitious Lewis, ceafe
To plague mankind, and trouble Europe's peace;

Think on the ftructures which thy pride has raz'd,
On towns unpeopled, and on fields laid waste;
Think on the heaps of corps, and ftreams of blood,
On every guilty plain, and purple flood,

Thy arms have made, and cease an impious war,
Nor waste the lives intrusted to thy care.
Or if no milder thought can calm thy mind,
Behold the great avenger of mankind,

See mighty NASSAU through the battle ride,
And fee thy fubjects gasping by his fide:
Fain wou'd the pious Prince refufe th' alarm,
Fain wou'd he check the fury of his arm;
But when thy cruelties his thoughts engage,
The Hero kindles with becoming rage,
Then countries ftol'n, and captives unrestor'd,
Give ftrength to ev'ry blow, and edge his fword.
Behold with what refiftlefs force he falls

On towns befieg'd, and thunders at thy walls!
Afk Villeroy, for Villeroy beheld

The town furrender'd, and the treaty feal'd;
With what amazing ftrength the forts were won,
Whilft the whole pow'r of France food looking on.

But ftop not here: behold where Berkley ftands,
And executes his injur❜d King's commands;
Around thy coaft his burfing bombs he pours
On flaming citadels, and falling tow'rs;

With hizzing streams of fire the air they streak,
And hurl deftruction round 'em where they break,
The skies with long ascending frames are bright,
And all the fea reflects a quivering light.

Thus Ætna, when in fierce érruptions broke,

Fills heav'n with afhes, and the earth with smoke
Here crags
of broken rocks are twirl'd on high,
Here molten ftones and featter'd cinders fly :

Its fury reaches the remotest coast,

And ftrows the Afiatic shore with duft.

Now does the failor from the neighb'ring main
Look after Gallic towns and forts in vain ;-
No more his wonted marks he can defery,
But fees a long unmeaford ruin lie;

Whilft, pointing to the naked coaft, he shows

3

His wond'ring mates where towns and steeples rofe,
Where crowded citizens he lately view'd,

And fingles out the place where once St. Maloes flood..
Here Ruffel's actions fhould my Mufe require;

And would my ftrength but fecond my defire,
I'd all his boundless bravery rehearse,
And draw his cannons thund'ring in my verfe;
High on the deck shou'd the great leader ftand,
Wrath in his look, and light'ning in his hand;
Like Homer's Hector when he flung his fire

Amidft a thousand ships, and made all Greece retire.

But who can run the British triumphs o'er, ́ And count the flames disperst on ev'ry shore ? Who can describe the scatter'd victory,

And draw the reader on from sea to sea ?

Elfe who cou'd Ormond's God-like acts refuse,
Ormond the theme of ev'ry Oxford Mufe?
Fain wou'd I here his mighty worth proclaim,
Attend him in the noble chase of fame,
Through all the noife and hurry of the fight,
Obferve each blow, and keep him ftill in fight.
Oh, did our British peers thus court renown,
And grace the coats their great fore-fathers won!
Our arms wou'd then triumphantly advance,
Nor Henry be the laft that conquer'd France.
What might not England hope, if such abroad
Purchas'd their country's honour with their blood:
When fuch, detain'd at home, fupport our ftate
In WILLIAM's ftead, and bear a kingdom's weight,
The schemes of Gallic policy o'ethrow,

And blaft the counfels of the common foe;

Direct our armies, and diftribute right,

And render our MARIA's lofs more light.

But ftop, my Mufe, th' ungrateful found forbear,
MARIA's name ftill wounds each British ear:
Each British heart MARIA ftill does wound,
And tears burft out unbidden at the found;